


Healed

by VintageJacqui



Series: Broken/Healed [2]
Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-15
Updated: 2013-08-15
Packaged: 2017-12-23 14:52:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/927804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VintageJacqui/pseuds/VintageJacqui
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The events after Nasir shows Agron the shield he made for him (WOTD Ep 10 Victory)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Healed

**Author's Note:**

> (I would read the first in this series - Broken - because this is a parallel. They are torn apart in the first one and brought together in the second. They can be read seperately though and will make sense. Hopefully ;p)

“I cannot flee to the mountains with the others. Despite command my place is upon field of battle.”

The words are familiar. Agron is unable to change who he is and Nasir would never ask him to. His path is written and this time Nasir intends to be a part of the story. He fights through the fog of despair and lifts his eyes.

“As mine is forever by your side.”

A flicker of pride and gratitude shines in Agron’s eyes. To have Nasir beside him in this, to have their fate entwined as it should be, it gives Agron courage.

Terror is written on their faces, terror and a silent promise, to never part again.

Hands grip and tears sting. They know the afterlife is calling them, pulling at them, relentless and cold and empty.

And yet, Nasir feels whole again. His heart has been transformed from the hollow shell it became when he learned of Agron’s fate into something powerful and living and free. He is born again in Agron’s arms. The sharp pain in his chest that has followed him since that day fades, and he can breathe easily again, his lungs no longer crushed by grief.

The gods were punishing him. He knows this. His eyes drifted from the orbit of his lover and in that instant, he was bound to a fate he did not desire. Losing his heart was never his intention. Nasir’s heart belongs to only one.

Lips press into his hair, breath hitches and shudders, it’s too much and not enough.

“Nasir,” Agron breathes. He has spoken like this before, on the night when he tore Nasir to shreds and took up arms with Crixus. He soaks in the sound now, his name a sacred kiss upon Agron’s lips and they cling to each other

“Agron,” Nasir replies.

The shield that will aid Agron in the final battle against their Roman oppressors glints in the sunlight that is speckling through the patchwork of tears in their tent. Nasir put his soul into making it for him, knowing that Agron would never flee from Spartacus now that they are so close to finishing this brutal dance. He holds on to the fragile hope, his plea to the gods, that somehow it will protect his love and become a weapon of destruction in his mighty hands, slick with blood and death.

Nasir can’t close his eyes and Agron holds him tight. Nasir never wants him to let him go, not again.

Time slipped by like sand through an open palm when Agron was gone. Nasir wandered through the camp, deaf, dumb, blind, the shell of his body so thin he thought he might blow away in the wind.

Now, Agron stands a solid reality in his arms. Nasir’s fingers hover over the strips of cloth that do nothing to conceal the injuries his man sustained at the hands of the Romans. For him to have survived… Nasir knows that it is a miracle. The dried blood, more black now than red, stripes Agron’s broad back, is carved into his torso, but his hands are the worst. The man is forever changed.

They find themselves on the meagre bed at the rear of their makeshift room. Footsteps and shadows unrelenting outside the tent give them no illusion of privacy. Nasir lays his hands on the exposed parts of Agron’s skin. There are too few for his liking, bandages and leather and metal, he wants it gone.

“Nasir, I cannot…” Agron looks down at his hands, motionless in the air. He can barely move his fingers, his grip lost maybe forever. Nasir doesn’t even know if Agron can feel anymore.

Taking Agron’s hands within his own, Nasir holds them like he would a bird, gentle enough not to damage, but firm enough so they cannot get free. He can hear Agron’s thoughts as clear as though they had spilled from trembling lips. Touch… Agron wants to touch, but he is afraid that he will fail.

Nasir raises one of Agron’s hands up to his face and holds it against his cheek. It is a feeling he knows well and he rubs his face against Agron’s fingers, the rough skin more soothing than any balm to his heart.

“I will help you,” Nasir tells Agron. He kisses the raised material binding the healing holes penetrating each palm. “They will not take this from you. They will not take me from you.”

Agron’s jaw clenches, his eyes wet and so green that Nasir is lost in them, dazzled by the beauty of his lover and his power, the intense way that Agron tells him everything with just one look. All his fear and pain, his regrets and apologies, they are all as clear to Nasir as the love he sees there, the lust, the final desperation.

Taking the armour from Agron’s battered body is slow. It’s both a blessing and a curse. To be close to Agron makes Nasir’s skin tingle, a heat he thought he had lost is returned. The true picture of what Agron has been through though almost stops Nasir’s heart again. He had seen Agron, undressed him on that clear moonlit night when the gods saw fit to send him home, but this would be the first time they would be joined together and it is consuming Nasir. He sees the wooden cross every time his eyes close, feels each nail as it pushes through skin and gristle and bone. Agron doesn’t speak of it, but with Nasir, he doesn’t have to. Nasir knows.

“Do not despair, little man,” Agron says softly, the tone one would use to calm a skittish horse. He leans up on the blankets, naked and golden, like a god walking earth. He takes Nasir’s hand, twitching fingers only curling around and covering more than gripping, but he wants to comfort Nasir through this too. When he places Nasir’s hand over his heart, Nasir cracks, his breath ripping and shuddering out of his lungs and his eyes swim.

He lies down next to Agron, careful not to put pressure on his wounds. Agron looks at him for a long time before he presses their lips together, hard and impossible for even a breath to pass between them. Nasir gasps, his eyes squeezed shut as he places his forehead against his lovers.

“Nasir, my love… you saved me. Agron kisses him again and then whispers against his lips. “You saved me. My heart still beats because of you.”

“Promise that you won’t go where I can’t follow,” Nasir says. Even if it is the afterlife, he will follow no matter what.

Agron brings their mouths together again, the only answer that Nasir needs. It’s more frantic now, time is pushing on and they cannot linger in their solitude.

Nasir pushes Agron’s shoulders, gently lowering him down upon the bed again while he stands to remove his own garments. His hands shake, the feel of his own flesh hot to the touch like a fever is raging under the surface. Agron watches him, his face relaxed even with the shadow of battle growing ever closer. In that moment, nothing else in the world exists but them.

Agron’s eyes wander where they will, mapping each scar and ridge, every curve and line, waiting patiently for Nasir to come to him. Nasir doesn’t leave him waiting for long.

Taking care not to put his weight on Agron at all, Nasir lifts his leg, moving it over Agron's waist so that he is kneeling above him. His knees are pressed close to Agron’s sides, but he is careful, he will not hurt Agron for anything, not even this. The look Agron gives him says ‘I shall not break’, but Nasir shakes his head, ‘no’. On this matter he will not bend.

Lifting his body up, Nasir spreads his legs wider, feeling exposed to the humid air around them and shuddering at the way it feels against his nakedness. He strokes his chest, eyes never leaving Agron’s simmering gaze, like a beast in a cage held back only by string. His ass grazes Agron’s cock lightly, just enough to stimulate him, tease a little and Nasir allows himself to smile when his lover curses under his breath. Nasir adores the sound of gravel in Agron’s voice, how harsh and brutish he sounds. When they are like this, the hard edge is polished, softer, and it deepens the connection between them, knowing that what they have is unique, hidden to all others. Agron will not show who he really is to anyone but Nasir.

Agron lifts up his hands and a flicker of doubt passes over his face, a tension that Nasir will see wiped clean. He takes hold of Agron’s wrists and guides him to place his hands upon his hips, not the biting grip that both of them are used to, but it is as physical as Agron can be and it is enough. The feeling of Agron’s hands upon him again arouses Nasir so much that he moans, rolling his hips and sliding back against Agron’s hardening cock, dragging his blunt fingernails down the muscles straining his lover’s biceps.

Short thrusts become deeper and before long Agron is rearing up, forcing himself against Nasir’s opening, his every movement a guttural worship of the man on top of him. Agron reaches for the sweet, darkly rich oil that they keep as their only luxury, his patience wearing thin, but Nasir takes hold of it just as Agron’s fingertips brush the container.

Their eyes meet and Nasir smiles knowingly. Agron loves to prepare him, his fingers, his mouth, his tongue, all used with great skill and care to reduce Nasir to a glistening mess. Nasir sometimes wondered if his lover relished their foreplay more so than their copulation. It is another obstacle that causes Agron’s jaw to clench with raw emotion. Another thing that has changed.

Agron despises his weakness. Nasir believes it makes Agron stronger.

“Give me your hand,” Nasir says, holding out his hand and gripping the oil in the other. When he has what he wants, Nasir cups the larger man’s hand, his palm cradling the back of Agron’s. The oil is dripped and then poured in a golden line, slipping over and through Agron’s fingers and onto Nasir’s. He slides their hands together, coating and rubbing, and leaving no dry skin unadorned. When they are slick and ready, Nasir lifts his body again and takes Agron with him when he reaches between his legs. His finger traces the tight ring of muscle, closely followed by Agron’s lighter touch. Nasir pushes the tip of his finger inside, and then guides Agron to do the same. Together they go back and forth, Nasir creating the path for Agron to follow, never denying the man what he desires. He doesn’t rush Agron, doesn’t patronise, he just waits for him.

Two become three become four. Nasir hisses when he crooks two of his fingers, buried to the knuckle, caressing the bundle of nerves inside. Agron’s two fingers are behind, but he cannot move them as easily. He hesitates for a second, considers pulling out of the impossible tightness, but Nasir is right with him again, helping, guiding. Instead of needing Agron to curve his fingers to match him, Nasir fucks himself on them instead, again and again, the beautiful length of his cock hitting his stomach as he rocks over Agron’s writhing body. He lifts up and squeezes around Agron’s fingertips and then sinks down. Every move is careful, but Agron can feel the droplets of sweat that are splashing onto him from above. Nasir wants to let go of the wildness in him, but he will not risk hurting Agron further.

“Nasir, you can never hurt me… I need you…” Agron hides the wince of pain he feels shooting up his arm when he reluctantly pulls out of Nasir. He drags his throbbing hand over his equally throbbing cock and Nasir’s eyes darken. “Do not make me beg, little man.”

The smile that Nasir thought was lost forever such a short time ago dazzles him and a bead of moisture pulses out of his aching erection. His eyes fall closed and he could find his release right there, without a touch, just knowing that Agron is with him.

Nasir removes his fingers, the sound and sensation, adding to the building pressure in his groin. He wants Agron inside him, wants to erase the memory of when they last did this and lock that pain away and replace it with the love that binds them now.

Taking more of the precious oil, Nasir sits gingerly on Agron’s massive thighs and pours a generous amount over his shaft. It runs down, pooling at the course curls of hair at the base and Nasir massages the hard flesh tenderly. Agron moans, pained curses and adoring words forced through clenched teeth, twitching in Nasir’s grip as he paints Agron's length with the glossy liquid.

Nasir could do this forever, watch as Agron falls apart and then is remade by his hands. Every time is like the first and yet better, new. This man, this warrior, who gave Nasir his heart so long ago, without agenda or expectation, who believed in Nasir like no one else could… he is breaking.

“Fuck, Nasir…. forgive me, forgive me…” Agron’s eyes are closed so hard there are lines like valleys surrounding them. Leaning down over Agron’s chest to kiss the column of his neck, tasting salt and dirt and blood, Nasir slows his hand and finally let’s go of Agron’s cock.

Agron tries to sit up, to wrap his arms around Nasir’s back and hold him on his lap like he used to, but Nasir is determined, stubborn, and pushes Agron down again. He touches Agron’s cheeks with his fingers, smooth’s away the lines there and kisses him with a gentle hunger. There is no way to tell Agron what his leaving did to him, nor is there any way to express what his presence means to him now.

Nasir takes Agron’s hand again and twines it with his own. He reaches for Agron’s cock and they line it up to Nasir’s entrance together, pushing in just enough for Nasir’s breath to catch. He can feel Agron’s fingers desperately trying to get better purchase, so Nasir uses his own strength to steady the searing intrusion and Agron arches into him, the heat of his wild little dog almost too much to bear.

Once Nasir is seated, panting and gasping for air, Agron rests his hands on the flat plain of his stomach. He cannot lift Nasir, cannot dig his fingers into flesh, but he can feel the way that he moves. He is graceful and beautiful in all the ways that a man can be. Nasir is fierce in all aspects of life and a better man than Agron has ever dreamed of being. He will never be worthy of the second chance he has been given, but he will spend however long he has left in this life and all the eternities that are to come, at Nasir’s side. Where he belongs.

They begin to move, slowly at first like Nasir is testing the limits of what Agron can withstand, but the faith his little man has given him a lifeline. He matches Nasir thrust for thrust, the longing that has plagued him every step he took away from his heart is lifted and he knows he is forgiven. His hands slide down to Nasir’s thighs, damp with sweat and the exertion of not letting his weight fall onto Agron. Each time Agron is released, the sweet drag of their bodies in perfect synch, Nasir moans his name and drives back down, arching his back and tilting his head like he is looking at the stars.

Agron grinds his hips and swivels them when Nasir lowers himself down on his cock, making him feel it. They are claiming each other again. It’s what they are.

Pounding feet on soil rumble through their feral cries. Sand slips through an hourglass and they roar and scream, cursing the gods and praising them, speaking each other’s names in gratitude. The clattering of spear and sword echoes all around them and time stops.

Nasir stills and looks down at bottomless green eyes. The beginning feels like the end and he is powerless to stop the fate that lies over the horizon. If he could live a thousand lives and never have known Agron, he would choose the short time they have been as one in a heartbeat. To have loved and been loved by someone so flawed and perfect, stubborn and generous… it is worth more than a thousand years. It’s everything.

A tear drops from Nasir’s warm brown eyes and lands on Agron’s lips. He kisses it away and begins to roll his hips again. It will not be long now.

“I love you,” Nasir whispers as Agron spills inside him.

And just like that, they are healed.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I watched the scene a million times when I was writing this and - the last line in my fic about them being healed, I think when Agron and Nasir go to tell Spartacus that they will be going with him and not fleeing into the mountains, they both look different, like something has shifted. If you watch the clip when Agron says to Nasir they look so exhausted and emotional, but after they have BOTH chosen their path together, they stand side by side, afraid but strong and that is sort of what I wanted to do with this fic. I ramble, yes. ;p


End file.
